


Sleeping Beauty

by theflowercrownedking



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Consensual Somnophilia, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 05:51:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13583610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theflowercrownedking/pseuds/theflowercrownedking
Summary: In which Thomas wakes before James, and they have a free morning ahead.AKA, the gentle somnophilia/morning sex fic we've all been waiting for.





	Sleeping Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> influenced by bean, of course

 

Thomas wakes up hard, his cock pressed against James’ arse and resting between his cheeks perfectly. James has not yet awoken, so Thomas takes the time to enjoy the way that the morning light filters through the curtain they had both been too distracted to close fully last night. 

As Thomas leans back to admire his lover, James leans forward in his sleep so that he is laying more on his stomach, giving Thomas an unimpeded view of his upper body down to where the sheet has pooled at his waist. The sun paints an alluring golden stripe across the pale skin of his lieutenant’s back, and Thomas can’t help himself from smoothing a hand down the sleepwarm expanse of James’ freckled back, travelling even lower to push the sheet further down and expose the perfect curve of his arse.

They had discussed this before, after one night where Thomas had woken up hard and realised a few moments too late that he’d been grinding against James’ arse cheeks. He had stopped immediately once he understood what he was doing, but James had already awoken by then in a similar state of arousal, and so they’d fumbled in the dark until mutual completion. The incident had been forgotten until a few nights later, in the moments after lovemaking, wherein James had hesitantly expressed further interest in Thomas engaging him in sexual acts while he was asleep. His tone had been unsure, as if he’d expected Thomas to rebuke him, however James should know by now that he could never fail to tempt Thomas. Now, smoothing a hand over the curve of James’ rump and admiring the spattering of freckles adorning it, Thomas can’t help but appreciate exactly how tempting a sight he is.

They hadn’t had an appropriate morning to try out what they’d discussed until now; but with no pressing engagements until early afternoon, Thomas sees no harm in indulging them both; he has no doubt that James’ mind went to a similar place the previous evening once he’d realised they had a free morning ahead.

Pressing a kiss to James’ shoulder, Thomas moves away as slowly and quietly as he can so as not to disturb James’ rest, and grabs the bottle of oil from the bedside table. Coming up behind James, he settles so that there is a slight distance between them, giving himself a clear view of his lover.

With feather light touches he arranges James so he is more on his side, then traces his fingertips over the skin of James’ abdomen, stroking up and down until he the muscles there twitch slightly in response. Satisfied, he trails his fingers round to James’ rear once more.

Parting his cheeks slightly, Thomas presses the pad of his thumb to James’ opening and watches as it subtly flutters at his touch. Inspecting the rim, he notices it is still slightly loose from the previous night, and he smiles at the delicious memories it brings back. It’s still much too tight for any serious play right now, however, so Thomas pours some oil into his hand to warm it slightly; the last thing he needs now is for James to wake from the coolness of the oil on his cheeks.

Once it is at a more pleasant temperature, he coats his index and middle fingers and uses them to stroke at James’ rim until it flutters once more. Taking great care, he delicately and slowly eases his middle finger in. James instantly clenches around him at the insertion, and Thomas pauses to see if he is causing James too much discomfort only to feel James sleepily pushing back on his hand, easing him in further.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Thomas pumps his finger in and out of James, angling slightly up to ensure he’s lightly stroking his prostate, and he watches with pleasure as James’ cock begins to swell. Loose as James is already, it’s not long till Thomas meets no resistance at all with his middle finger, and slowly he removes it before coming to settle more closely behind him and slipping in both his middle and index finger this time. Once more, James tightens around him, even letting out a sleepy moan this time, and Thomas moves gentler still to avoid waking him fully just yet; he wants to draw this out and savour James’ awakening.

Lightly, he scissors him open, mouthing soft kisses to James’ shoulder and enjoying the shiver that runs through his lover’s body when Thomas gently rubs once more against his sweet spot. He knows James craves tenderness from him, and he’s only too eager to provide it; he aches for it just as much, in fact. Though James hasn’t revealed much about his history with other men, Thomas knows enough to suspect he has never before been shown the respect and adoration that he so clearly deserves. Pressing a smaller, softer kiss to James’ shoulder, Thomas vows to always show James the reverence he is due.

Adding slightly more pressure to his thrusts in and out of James, he delights in the resulting sleepy groan and the way James starts to unconsciously thrust his hips backwards to meet him. When they had first started sharing a bed, Thomas had been worried that James’ navy instincts might cause him to be a light sleeper, however he’d quickly learned that the exact opposite is true. James had reasoned that the navy’s penchant for communal sleeping arrangements had given them the ability to sleep through anything. Though this seemed reasonable at the time, Thomas can’t help but wonder, two fingers deep into James’ arse, if perhaps James is just a special case.

James’ breath is quickening however, and he’s letting out little gasps after every other breath. Thomas is just easing in a third finger and sucking a mark into the base of James’ neck when he feels James clench around him, and then James’ whole body tenses and shifts as he wakes up and realises exactly what is going on.

As he finishes up with the mark on James’ neck he pulls back and hums into James’ ear. “Morning, love.”

James gasps as Thomas punctuates this by firmly massaging his prostate, and his voice is like a deep ambrosia when he curses, the syllables syrupy slow as his sleepy haze shifts seamlessly into a pleasurable one.

Through this fog, James clearly has enough focus of mind to have priorities still; he shifts as best as he can while still allowing Thomas to carry on his ministrations and turns his head to try and capture Thomas in a kiss. Shifting up on his elbow slightly, Thomas is only so happy to accommodate; though it was only mere hours ago he kissed James last, it still feels like an unreasonably long time since he got to taste his lover’s lips.

James’ mouth is needy against his own, and Thomas swallows every whimper and gasp with triumph as he continues to open James up. When he pulls away, James lets out the prettiest whimper Thomas has ever heard, and Thomas can see a pool of pre-cum forming on the sheet below James’ now straining cock. Obediently, James hasn’t touched himself yet, though this has clearly taken great effort; one hand clutches at the sheets beneath him, while the other has come up to grasp Thomas’ outer thigh. Indeed, Thomas’ own cock is feeling neglected, and as if reminded of its existence he feels it throb with a burning need.

“Fuck, Thomas, I need you,” James manages to stutter out, and Thomas is glad to find they’re of the same mind on this matter at least.

He slips his fingers out of James and slicks up the length of his shaft up before lining himself up with James’ rim. He teases a little by rubbing his cockhead up and down James’ crack, but when James full-body-shivers in anticipation, he knows both of them are desperate enough as is. Ever so slowly, he pushes the head of his cock in and thrusts slowly forward into James’ heat. He stops midway, both to allow James to acclimatise and to take a few deep breaths himself.

“God, James, you always feel so good,” he murmurs against James’ ear, “Always so perfect.”

James shivers slightly at the praise, and keens, pushing back slightly to signal that he’s okay for Thomas to continue. With another long, slow thrust, he enters until he is fully sheathed.

James is so tight and perfect around him that Thomas can barely think; it’s all he can do to shift so that his arms can come up around James’ waist. Now that they are flushed together from their shoulders to where they are joined, Thomas can hold James in the way he has been craving for so long. Slowly, he withdraws almost entirely and then pushes back in with another lengthy thrust, starting a languid rhythm and savouring the simple pleasure of James clenching around him whenever he drags up against his prostate.

As the desperation ebbs away, Thomas revels in the way his and James’ rhythms have synced; James is moving his hips the best he can to match the easy roll of Thomas’ own, allowing Thomas to sink deeper into his tightness. He finds himself pressing tender kisses against James’ shoulders and nape again, dotting them across the spattering of freckles he finds as well as soothing the bruise he had sucked there earlier.

James’ small gasps have turned into unashamed moans, and every so often he will utter Thomas’ name with a reverence that most men would reserve for prayer. Thomas punctuates each of these utterances with a slightly harder thrust, all the while murmuring more praise into James’ ear between kisses; he needs to let James know how perfect he is, how well they fit together, how much Thomas loves him.

The rhythm they had fallen into begins to stutter as Thomas reaches one hand down to loosely grasp James’ cock, finally allowing him some friction, though not nearly enough to satisfy him. James keens as Thomas’ thrusts start to become a fraction harder but no less deep, driving him into Thomas’ loose fist over and over as his hips try to match Thomas’ pace.

“Thomas,” James gasps, before he’s broken off by a moan and has to try again. “Fuck, Thomas, please!”

God help Thomas, for his lover begs so prettily. It is impossible for him to deny James anything. He tightens his grip around James’ cock and begins to stroke up and down the shaft, rubbing the head with his thumb on every upwards stroke so that spurts of precum ooze out and leak across his fingers. He can feel how close James is getting as he shudders and tightens around Thomas, and it feels so perfect that, for a moment, Thomas can do nothing but bury his face into the nape of James’ neck. He closes his eyes, inhaling slow, deep breaths to stop himself from getting too overwhelmed and finishing too soon, before he’s really had the chance to wreck James.

James’ hair tickles his face from where it is splayed out on the pillow, and it surrounds him with the scent of the fragrant soaps they had used when bathing together the previous evening. He grounds himself with this, then begins to focus again on the other sensations he is feeling; he tightens the arm that is still around James’ waist and enjoys the added closeness they now share as a result. With the added proximity, he cannot maintain the longer, deeper motions, so he abruptly shifts to a shorter, sharper rhythm that punches tiny moans out of James with every brush of his prostate.

His hand around James’ cock speeds up, and James begins to murmur his name, over and over like a mantra. Opening his eyes, Thomas can see James’ hand clutching at the sheets desperately, while the other has come to grasp the wrist that Thomas has encircled around his waist tight. This stage of incoherency means that James is very, very close, and Thomas can feel him clenching periodically around his length as James’ body instinctively tries to get him deeper. Thomas can feel his own pleasure building up too, and how could it not when James feels so divine around him, stretched out and wanting?

He diverts the last of his attention to focusing the movements of his hand to the head of James’ cock. He is rewarded by a hitch in James’ breath, and somehow, though Thomas didn’t realise it possible, James’ desperation grows; his grip around Thomas’ wrist tightens and his voice is breaking slightly as he curses and calls out Thomas’ name over and over. Thomas strokes once, twice, three times more, before he feels James go taut around him and hears James call out his name one last time, followed by a deep groan so divine that Thomas can’t help groaning himself.

He feels James’ cock erupt in his hand and strokes him through it, feeling his fingers get coated in warm, sticky fluid. Once he feels James’ body go lax and boneless in his arms, he slows down the rhythm of his hips into a gradual stop. He’s so close to release that every nerve in his body is screaming for him to continue, but he knows how sensitive it can be after an orgasm that intense, and so he goes to withdraw, as agonising as it is. He is surprised, then, to feel James’ hand return to its place on his thigh in a stilling motion.

“Don’t stop,” James says, and his voice is hoarse from it’s constant use, breath still shaky from the severity of his release. “I want you to come inside.”

Thomas curses at that, and as close as he is, he can feel himself leaking pre-come into James at the mere thought of filling him up. His own voice is shaky as he asks “Are you sure?” and he can’t help his groan as James confirms, clenching down as if to reaffirm his decision.

Grasping James’ thigh with that hand that was on his cock, Thomas lifts it up so that one leg is raised, and thrusts the rest of the way back inside James’ now spread hole. His rhythm is irregular now, as close as he is, and he loses himself easily to the heady pleasure, sliding in and out of his lover and focusing only on how good and tight and perfect it feels; how well he fits.

He chases his pleasure, urged along by gentle gasps and encouragements from James. His hips are just beginning to stutter when James clenches tight around him, and he loses it, burying his face in James’ nape and driving his hips forward to grind into James’ heat as his orgasm wracks through him. As he returns to himself, he lowers James leg back down and presses more kisses to the back of James’ shoulder; he will never have kissed this spot enough, not until there is a kiss for every freckle that adorns it twice over and then some.

He slips out of James with as much grace as he can muster considering how heavy all of his limbs have become. James shifts round in his arms to face him, and Thomas is blessed with the sight of his truest love’s beautiful face for the first time this morning. Their chests are both heaving and James’ face is still flushed; Thomas delights in the way the redness has spread down to his chest too, a perk of James’ complexion that Thomas will never stop being grateful for.

“Good Morning, my lord” James rumbles, his tone suggesting nothing out of the ordinary, as if he was greeting Thomas in his study, though the twinkle in his eyes and quirk of his lips give him away. “Thank you for the wake-up.”

He wants to reach his hand up to stroke James’ face and brush a loose strand of hair out of his eyes and behind his ear, but unfortunately, one of his arms is still trapped underneath James and the other is… Unclean. Instead, he settles for leaning in and pressing his lips against James’ in a short, gentle kiss, murmuring a “You’re welcome, Love,” before pulling away to rise and clean his hands, as well as fetch a damp washcloth to help James wipe down.

With care, he strips the soiled sheet away to dump on the ground, giving James’ raised eyebrow a cheeky smirk in return. “Excuse me if I’m averse to the idea of reacquainting myself with the, ahem,   _fruits of our labour_ while we’re trying to enjoy the morning glow.”

He laughs at James’ resulting huff, and moves closer to kiss James’ cheeks, which have flushed a darker shade of red at the reminder of the mess they had made. Slowly, he wipes the washcloth he had procured down James’ abdomen, tenderly making sure he hasn’t missed anything before gently spreading James’ thighs and repeating the same motions. James gasps at the coolness of the rag, and Thomas glances up at him with a small smile on his face, feeling a blossoming warmth and fondness in his chest as he takes in the constellations across James’ body (though there are surely more freckles on his torso alone then there are stars in the night sky), the devotion in his eyes, and the dimples that frame the small smile on his face.

Thomas remembers the first time they had laid together, and how afterwards James had seemed hesitant and unsure, as if expecting Thomas to dismiss him as soon as they were done. He is relieved and proud of how far they have come since then; no longer does James expect to be tossed aside, and more still, he no longer thinks of their coupling as impure in anyway, not even now when their climaxes have been met, and they are left with the resulting mess. As he finishes wiping the last of the oil and come away, he is left wondering how anybody could say that what he and James share is depraved or sacrilegious; their union is righteous and pure, so full of love and undeniable in its authenticity. He is glad that James has endured past the falsehoods that were ingrained into him. and instead come to see the truth for what is; the love they share is true, and good.

He is interrupted from his musings by a hand coming up stroke his cheek. “Something on your mind, love?”

James voice still gets a little gruff whenever he expresses affection towards him, but Thomas can see in his eyes how much James means it, and how happy he is to say it. Deciding not to dispirit the gentle mood with such heavy introspection, he shakes his head with a smile. “Nothing of consequence.”

He tosses the rag to the side, where it lands on top of the sheets, and comes up to lay by James’ side once more. He intertwines their legs and leans in to distract James’ inevitable curiosity with a slow kiss, returning them to their earlier languid disposition and mirroring the way James’ hands come up to caress his torso. James is smiling as he pulls away, and there is a glint in his eye.

“ _Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere; This bed thy center is, these walls thy sphere._ ” he quotes, and Thomas feels his heart swell. Whenever he feels he has given all the love he can to him, James finds a new way to surprise or charm him and Thomas is left feeling foolish to ever have thought he could run out of love to give his lieutenant.

“We have time yet before the world needs us, love,” he says, before rolling James onto his back and straddling him, intent on making the most of the remaining morning and, more pressingly, kissing that daft smile off of his lover’s face.

**Author's Note:**

> The poem James quotes is 'The Sun Rising' by John Donne, whomst I hate. It fit too well, so I added the quote despite this, but I just wanted you all to know my stance on him. A valuable quote I once heard on him was 'John Donne is a wasteman' (Source: my boyfriend) and that's stuck with me ever since.
> 
> Also moment of silence, bc this is the longest fic I've written to date and its all smut.


End file.
